"You might go your own way, then," sneered Gato. "I can find
other men who are not so curious. However, I will say that, when
daylight comes, we will hide not far from here. None of you know
the Americanos by sight. I will point them out to you as they
pass by in the daylight."

"And then--what?" pressed one of the rough men. "Are we to kill
the Americanos from ambush?"

"Eh?" gasped Tom Reade, with a start.

"If you have to," nodded Pedro Gato. "Though, in that case, I shall
call you clumsy. I shall pay you just four times as much if you
bring them to me as prisoners. Remember that. Before I despatch
these infernal Gringos I shall want the fun of tormenting them."

"Oh, you will eh?" thought Tom, with a slight shudder.

"I heard, Gato," ventured one of the Mexicans, incautiously, "that
one of the Americanos beat you fearfully--that he threw you down
and stamped on you."

"It is a lie!" uttered Gato, leaping to his feet, his face distorted
with rage. "It is a lie, I tell you. The man does not live who
can beat me in a fight."

"I was struck with amazement at the tale," admitted the Mexican
who had brought about this outburst.

"And well you might be," continued Gato, savagely. "But the Americanos